


scientist²

by nh3gh3



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nh3gh3/pseuds/nh3gh3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If there was a way to break the barrier from this side, I would have found it, ” Gaster lied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scientist²

✞   


“If there was a way to break the barrier from this side, I would have found it, ” Gaster lied.

He was brilliant.  He was obsessive.  He was unwavering in his tests and theories, curiosity and insomnia.  But no one knew everything, even when the hungry gears in the scientist’s brain rushed forward blindly, madly, like they could somehow ever catch up to omniscience.

He was going off a hunch.  A measured one, but that was it.  Sans knew this just as much as he knew he couldn’t stop Gaster from what he was going to do.

Flinging himself into The Core sounded like a bad joke.  Sans could appreciate that.  And he did, until he saw the blueprints.

Beautiful in their estimations and expressions, like perfect poetry written in algebraic equations.  Gaster was serious.  Sometimes it was hard to tell, but not now.  The sun would’ve risen if they had a sun down there by the time Sans realized what the scientist was going to do.  At best, it was a fraction of a chance.  Small, desperate.  At worst, it was calculated suicide.

“Yeah.”  Sans smiled.

“We’ve hit every conceivable brick wall.   _We’ve hit ones that shouldn’t exist._ ”

They had.  This time, Sans nodded.

“It’s the closest we’ll get.  You know this, Sans.”

He didn’t.  This time, Sans did nothing.

Gaster moved to him.

Hands slid along Sans’ arms to hold and convince him.  Fingers moved against Sans’ lab coat to reassure him, rubbing in unsure circles.  Looking for something; maybe there was an easier way out.  Something overlooked.  Anything.  Gaster watched Sans for any nuance in expression, but there was only steady resignation and fear.  It wasn’t something Gaster was used to seeing in Sans.  It made him afraid too.

He leaned down and kissed him.  They’d already talked, shouted, avoided, whispered, pretended not to care, and by now, there wasn’t much left but this.

Sans didn’t respond, and it made Gaster hesitate.  He would’ve pulled away, but then his colleague was kissing back.  The gesture was sadly hesitant.  It felt like an apology.  All the crushing movements of their mouths and sounds bouncing against each other were reluctant byproducts of the unthinkable terror of loss.  But it became rougher, then vicious.

Gaster was held in place by Sans, lab coat grabbed roughly like his hands meant to tear it apart.  A part of him wanted to.  It grew, and Sans shoved him hard, downwards.  Gaster could’ve stopped him - it wouldn’t take much effort with his strength against the skeleton’s - but he didn’t.  He made a hurt sound when his back hit the ground.  Then Sans was on him and they kissed again.  Under him were the last blueprints they would ever arrange together, and there was something vaguely morbid in knowing that.

Their hips moved against each other, their mouths doing the same.  Gaster arched up for more - it was never enough, not with Sans - but Sans pressed him back down with a small arm, then a hand palming against the hardness in his trousers.  Gaster’s hips moved up against it, but his friend kept the same steadiness in his motions.

Sans didn’t need control, but he needed him to stay.  And even when they both knew Gaster would be gone by the end of the night into whatever clawed black hands of space-time were waiting for him, right now Sans could at least pretend he could trap him here forever if he kept him like this.  He could.

Sans maneuvered his way through a button and a zipper.  With just one hand, it was still easy for the most part; they’d done this enough times before.  His palm motioned around the head, rolling around and slicking wet with precum, then moved further down the length and back up again, repeating as slow and measured as Sans had the patience for, which was lessening fast.

When Sans put his mouth against his colleague’s again, Gaster moaned into the kiss, lewd and begging and everything his scientific distinction wasn’t.  He rubbed Sans’ cock against the cloth that covered it, and Sans let him pull out his dick to stroke him with the trembling persistence that was laced into everything Gaster was.  He’d be sucking him off right now if Sans would let him up.  But he knew he wouldn’t, and he knew why, and that was fine.

“One more day,” Sans spoke against Gaster’s mouth.  "Just - ah, damn, haha - one more.  Yeah, buddy?“

Gaster didn’t respond, but then he wasn’t expected to.

Sans continued, switching motions and speeds at all the right times and never predictable, not even after all the times they’d fucked.  Gaster’s eyes met Sans’, but they were dark with distance and saw something else, something far away and calling.  Maybe he saw the place that was waiting for him at the bottom of The Core.  Or nowhere at all.  Or maybe nowhere was where he was going and the closest he’d ever been to it wasn’t when the two of them fell deepest into their studies, but when they were like this and there was nothing else - no barrier, no underground, no grand ambitions to stay loyal to.  Them and the hum of nearby metal machinations that Gaster couldn’t even hear anymore just because he was so close.

He came, a heavy-breathing mess, and Sans brushed Gaster’s shaking hand away to finish himself off.  The sight of the older scientist in that state got him off fast and hard, like all the other times before then.

✞

Now they were standing.

In front of them, behind the steel doors they’d engineered themselves, was everything that would ever happen after this.  They didn’t want it, but obligation to a cause came first.  They would’ve never gotten as far as they did otherwise.

Numbers ran through Sans’ head.  Maybe they’d miscalculated.  Maybe there was still another way.  He was lost in his thoughts like falling far enough into them would stop all this.  Gaster watched him with nothing but fondness.  He’d touch him more gently than he ever had if it wouldn’t make it worse, but he knew it would.

Through all their methods and calculations, finality never came naturally to Gaster or Sans.  To them, everything was fixable - even permanence.  Through logic, through stubbornness, anything was possible.

Trials and errors later up to now, and they’d found something that wasn’t.


End file.
